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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29944983">group work</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/doyoyuta/pseuds/doyoyuta'>doyoyuta</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Doyu, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung-centric, M/M, Really fluffy, Romance, Swearing, and doyoung can be awkward, but they like each other asf, like super corny sometimes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:02:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,892</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29944983</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/doyoyuta/pseuds/doyoyuta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“you get so used to being away for so long, that the thought of going back terrifies you.” doyoung didn’t fully understand what yuta meant. he'd been in korea his entire life, surrounded by his family and childhood friends. “more than that," yuta continued, "you realize when you become so attached to the people in your life, the thought of leaving them terrifies you.”</p><p>yuta is an exchange student and doyoung admires him from afar--that is, until they're forced into a group together for their final project.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Nakamoto Yuta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. thursday, nov. 5th</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi! this is my first doyu fic! i’m not done yet and i’m adding to it everyday, but i was excited to get out as much as i could right now. i hope you enjoy because i love them :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Thursday, November 5th</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You will be divided into five groups. Five people each, selected at random--so don't complain to me about who you get, because I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>be making any changes."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The professor monotonously explained the final project for his music history class. Doyoung twiddled his pencil between his fingers, face propped up with his fist. Was he listening? Half of the time. Did he care to listen? Not really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The class itself was just an elective, but still required for his major within his college. He didn't know anybody there--besides the few people he would pair up with, who were mere acquaintances. In fact, it seemed as if nobody knew anybody in the class. Everyone was there for the same reason: to get it over with. That didn't necessarily mean making friends along the way. Doyoung didn't mind the idea of making friends; he doesn't have many to begin with. But it wasn't a priority and he honestly never went out of his way to talk to people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dongyoung? Can you hear me?" The professor's sharp words snapped him out of his thoughts. "Doyoung," he responded, sounding just as sharp back. It was near the end of the semester and the man still couldn't get his name right. People his age shouldn't even be in the workforce.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The professor glared at him in annoyance. "Doyoung. You're in group four. They've started to gather over there." He pointed towards the left side of the room where a few others were beginning to meet up, setting their belongings on an empty table and awkwardly finding a seat. Doyoung sighed at the idea of having to cooperate with new people. From the looks of it, he hadn't worked with any of the others in his group yet. But it didn't matter either way. It wasn't the end of the world, and being that he was the type to do most of the work, he didn't imagine there would be any conflicts. He grabbed his bag, stood, and walked over to the rectangular table where everyone had already been sitting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The group consisted of Doyoung and four other people. When he approached the table, they all seemed to simultaneously turn their heads in his direction. One of the girls waved, an enormous smile plastered on her face, and he gave a half smile in response. She seems giddy. Another girl sat quietly next to her. He knew her name was Mina--she's hooking up with a guy named Mark in his anthropology class, but she probably doesn't know that he knows. Mark tended to over share. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then there were two guys who had already seemed to know each other. One of them was Kim Jungwoo--an eclectic sort that always asked Doyoung for notes. He's the kind of funny guy Doyoung hates working with, the unpredictable one who either shows up to class and doesn't pay attention or never shows up until the exam days. Fortunately he had attended class most days, but often Doyoung would catch Jungwoo scrolling through his phone during lectures. Not that he cared then, but now this guy is in </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>group. Doyoung had already mapped out in his head that Jungwoo would be responsible for the talking part of the presentation and nothing else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other guy was someone everyone on campus knew. Nakamoto Yuta, foreign exchange student from Japan. Doyoung didn't know much about him, but what he did know was how intriguing Yuta was. He was well known as an amazing soccer player and scholar. And yet, Yuta didn't come off as a jock, or a player, or whatever stereotype there was for a popular and athletic guy. He had a confident air, but in a way that Doyoung only dreamed he himself could have. Confidence that was humble and cool (for lack of better words), and it drew people in. It was certainly working on Doyoung. Other than his confidence, the icing on top of the cake was that Yuta is </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely </span>
  </em>
  <span>attractive. His blonde styled hair, numerous ear piercings, and sharp eyes often adorning a glittery eyeshadow. No one had ever seen a face like Yuta's, and him being in this group in his quintessential glory only made Doyoung more self-conscious and self-aware than he already is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the initial awkward staring party that Doyoung was greeted with, he immediately pulls out his laptop to give himself anything to do other than break the ice of the group. "I think we should do an ice breaker!" the giddy girl on the opposite side of him shouted. GREAT! This is exactly as he was hoping for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, come on, Yerim. We're all adults here. I'm pretty sure everybody knows everybody's name," Jungwoo retorted. "First of all, Jungwoo, I told you to drop the ‘m’. Now enlighten me then and do a roll call, will you?" she rolled her eyes at his assumptive statement. He began pointing. "You’re Yeri, no ‘m’, that’s Mina, this right here is Na Yuta, and you," his finger landed on Doyoung and he squinted. "Daehyung..?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Doyoung." Before he could correct Jungwoo, Yuta had already done it for him. "Thank you." He managed to reply to Yuta but he was trying desperately to hide his shock. How exactly did Yuta know his name? Why did he know his name? Numerous unanswered questions that Doyoung was unbothered to ask yet highly curious to know the answer to. Maybe he just found it out in some random and completely normal way. He probably has a good eye for detail. Damn, yet another quality that adds onto his exemplariness. "Well, close enough," Jungwoo shrugged shortly after. "So who's got ideas for this? Cause I can tell you now, I'll be doing the talking." Just as Doyoung expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Honestly, I was thinking we could create our own music. People are probably going to do their presentations on music that is already established, so why don't we spice it up or something?" Yeri replied. The class itself was based around modern music history--its origins, impacts, audiences and whatnot. As for the project, Doyoung was pretty positive the professor made up some bullshit assignment just to make the final easy on him. There was no clear instruction, and the prof basically said "do a project on any topic from the class". Probably an easy A but Doyoung was the type to follow the instructions. He needed some kind of rubric, something to guide him so he can do what it takes for a decent grade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung watched Yuta as he listened intently with his chin in his hand, waiting for some kind of approval from him. Certainly if Yuta likes it, Doyoung would go with it too. "You know what, I think you're onto something, Yeri," he finally responded, breaking the silence, "What do you think, Doyoung?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And suddenly the attention was on him. "Oh, I agree. I mean, as long as we stay within the topic of the class, sure, why not?" Doyoung realized his gaze was only on Yuta, as if he was talking to him and him only. And Yuta was staring back. God, he's definitely very attentive, too. His stare intimidated Doyoung like no other, like he was reading Doyoung's entire life story just through their two connected eyes. Yuta smirked and nodded, turning back towards the group. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck was that?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>After wrapping up the seminar, the professor let the class go early to let groups discuss further outside of class. Probably because he didn't want to deal with them anymore. Doyoung's group agreed on Yeri's idea and decided to make a group chat to keep up with the assignment. And for some reason Doyoung felt giddy about the fact that he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>the </span>
  </em>
  <span>Nakamoto Yuta's phone number. It made him feel cooler which was also pathetic to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung gathered his things quickly and stood up. "Hey."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A voice stopped him from leaving. It was Yuta, who was getting himself together when he also stood up next to Doyoung. "I know you're smart, and you're probably going to do the whole thing, but don't feel like you </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to, alright?" he said as they walked out of the room together. "Very reassuring, thanks," Doyoung responded. Short and simple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm serious! I wanna help. So just tell me what to do and I'll be on it, leader." Doyoung raised an eyebrow at the label Yuta just assigned him. The last thing Doyoung wanted was to be accountable for his group. He was there to get his shit done and get out. "I'm not the leader," Doyoung started, "that's definitely Yeri's job. But sure, I'll text you when I figure out what the hell I'm even supposed to do."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Text me?" Yuta's face dropped. "Thought we could talk about it now and grab food, or something."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung realized in this moment that he wasn't prepared for this. What was he supposed to say? Or do? Or in those awkward gaps of silence, what kind of small talk should he come up with? Everything to Doyoung needed a plan and spontaneity was his enemy. So, of course he needed to reject him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stopped at an intersection of sidewalks, large trees lined up on the sides of each line of concrete. "Well, I have a few things planned tonight. Another day would be better," Doyoung gave a half smile back in hopes that it would make the rejection feel a little better. Yuta looked a little disappointed, but the look was quickly replaced by a smile. His smile was something anyone could look at for a lifetime. It was mesmerizing. "Sure, we'll set something up. See you tomorrow." Yuta waved, his rings glistening in the sun that was already setting. Doyoung swiftly threw a hand back to him, and found himself standing, watching Yuta as he walked away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung really just spent the last 2 hours crushing on this guy to which he proceeded to reject. But alas, he brushed it off his shoulder, and made his way back to the comfort of solitude in his apartment room.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>• • •</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The sun had set, about 2 hours passed since his final class, and Doyoung had yet to touch his backpack since the moment he dropped it on his bedroom floor. He knew that procrastinating only caused his work to pile on until it reached a point of no mercy, but God was his bed comfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He skimmed through countless social media posts on his phone. The endless cycle of scroll and refresh. Like and follow. His notifications were extremely dry and had always been this way. Doyoung wasn't one to text regularly, so he often found himself staring at his phone waiting for the ding of a new message.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That's when he remembered--Yuta gave him his number, and he had yet to text it. He hoped Yuta didn't sleep early as it had already gotten dark. Plus, he wouldn't mind chatting with him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What's the harm? </span>
  </em>
  <span>he would think to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>Doyoung</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Hi Yuta, it's Doyoung from MUS 505. Sorry for the late text, it slipped my mind earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He twiddled his thumbs while waiting for a response. Shortly afterwards, the typing bubbles appeared and Doyoung's stomach seemed to flutter.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>Yuta</b>
</p><p>
  <span>hi doyoung :) don't worry, better late than never. have you started on the project?</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Of course Doyoung hadn't started on the project. Why would he start when he could push everything aside and mindlessly scroll on his phone instead? Why would he choose to do work? Suddenly, he was more nervous than ever to reply even though he knew it probably wasn't a big deal. Perhaps it came down to the fact that he didn't want to disappoint Yuta. Or maybe he wanted to impress him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung decided he would act on an impulse.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>Doyoung</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Actually, I haven't gotten around to it. Was wondering if your offer to meet up was still up in the air tonight. Can't seem to focus here lol.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It scared him how bold his actions were. He would rarely initiate a conversation with someone, but to initiate plans with someone? Foreign fuckin' territory. And for some reason Yuta seemed to bring that unfamiliar side out of him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>Yuta</b>
</p><p>
  <span>of course, i'm free whenever you are. see you at the library in an hour?</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>Doyoung</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Great :) See you then.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung truly didn't know how to act.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ran out of his room and found his roommate, Taeil, sitting on their living room sofa. "Damn, Doie. What's the rush?" he grinned, taking his eyes off of the TV. Doyoung was flustered. "I need your help."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>• • •</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, you have a crush on this guy, 's what I'm getting," Taeil half-teased after Doyoung explained his encounters with '</span>
  <em>
    <span> the </span>
  </em>
  <span>Nakamoto Yuta'.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"NO! I mean... no. I don't even know him like that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taeil raised his eyebrow because he knew he could sense the younger's bullshittery, and that's what Doyoung despised yet loved about him. He genuinely liked that Taeil could read him like the cover of a damn magazine but sometimes he wished he would be more unknowing. He was like his own older brother--even if he already had one. "That is complete and utter BS. You fall in love with a new barista every week just because they spell your name correctly," Taeil chuckled in retortion. Doyoung was flustered beyond means and failed to form proper thoughts. He raised his voice in a plea. "So? So what? What if I do have a little crush? So what if he's the hottest man to ever walk this Earth? Can you just help me cause god damn it I only have an hour?!" The older began to laugh so hard that his stomach ached, all the while Doyoung came down from his embarrassing break down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They came up with conversation starters and fill-ins for the awkward silences that Doyoung kept complaining about (though Taeil reminded him that they would be in a library, so it was bound to happen anyway).</span>
  <em>
    <span> 'What's your major?' 'What made you come to Korea?' 'What kind of music do you listen to?' </span>
  </em>
  <span>Doyoung recited each question, oftentimes stumbling over his words, filling the spaces with um's and uh's. </span>
  <em>
    <span>'See?! You just said um, right there before 'what'.' Taeil pointed his finger in disbelief. 'Give me a break, Moon Taeil! You know I don't work in customer service!' he cried back. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Taeil also picked out his outfit, because he knew Doyoung would be indecisive and stressed out, and end up doing the most if the decision was up to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the elder wasn't concerned about the way things would play out. Though awkward as he is, Doyoung was naturally witty and approachable. He was only overthinking. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This boy must be head over heels.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>• • •</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The air was fresh and a slight breeze made its way through the autumn leaves, causing them to rustle and break loose from their branches, falling synchronously in a swaying motion to the sidewalk. The sky was clear, though not many stars could shine through the atmosphere of the densely lit city campus. Doyoung craned his neck upwards to make out the constellations he could manage to find--Orion, Ursa Major, Cassiopeia. It was nights like these that he wished would remain constant, as when the weather changes, so does he. He bided his time by observing the nature around him, mostly to ease his nerves over meeting up with his extremely attractive groupmate. The calm of the night helped him refract this overwhelming nervous energy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly the library was before him, and Doyoung realized he was so lost in the night that his legs seemed to walk for him while his mind wandered elsewhere. He entered the building and texted Yuta of his arrival.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>Yuta</b>
</p><p>
  <span>great ^_^ i’m on the second floor by the tables on the left wing</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung composed himself and headed up the staircase of the campus library. The building was quiet, with the occasional late night studier and essay crammers in their own worlds. His footsteps seemed to echo against the bookshelves and, as he was nearly the only thing making sound, he was sure that Yuta sensed him coming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, on the left wing, he spotted Yuta’s familiar blonde hair, falling messily against his face as one hand rested on his cheek and the other aimlessly scrolled through his phone. Doyoung walked up to the table hesitantly and could feel his heartbeat picking up in pace. Yuta looked up as his footsteps approached and grinned softly. He was a spectacle to the eyes, and Doyoung felt like he didn’t even deserve to be alone in his presence. “Hi,” Doyoung said quietly and sat down in the seat that Yuta reserved for him. “Hey. I’m glad you took up my offer,” Yuta said as Doyoung settled his belongings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shouldn’t have said no in the first place. I knew I wouldn’t be productive in my room,” Doyoung replied, opening up his laptop. Truthfully, he was too taken aback at that moment to comprehend Yuta’s offer. He had to work up the courage and time to even consider it. “Good. I’m the same way. I was also bored out of my mind, to be honest. My friends went to some bar while I was stuck trying to catch up on school work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some friends,” Doyoung scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right? Well, any other time I’d go with them. I chose not to. I’m trying to be more studious, less party-ous this semester.” They both chuckled lightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence fell again and Doyoung looked down at his screen. “So… what exactly are we doing tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuta laughed, and Doyoung’s heart swayed at the sound. “Good question. This was literally Yeri’s idea and yet here we are, no Yeri present. We could brainstorm ideas, or just chat. Get to know each other since we’re groupies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Interesting choice of word.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuta giggled, set his phone down, and watched Doyoung type on his screen. Yuta wasn’t sure what he was typing, but in reality, he was typing just to type--he hated facing this awkward first tension head on. “What’s your major?” Yuta asked, breaking the silence that the younger was too afraid to. “Music. Music theory, more specifically. And you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Liberal studies. Humanities, social science, and stuff like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah… I really didn’t expect you to be a humanities major,” Doyoung said. He half expected him to be a business major--that’s what most people like him would resort to. “Oh really? What did you expect, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, your friends are all business or marketing so I figured…” Doyoung trailed off and looked back at his screen for anything else to look at other than the boy in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My friends are all sheep,” he scoffed. “If I wanted to study something </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>boring, I would’ve just stayed my ass in Japan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another silence. Doyoung had begun to write the beginnings of his ideas for their project as Yuta was speaking. The air around him suddenly seemed dense. He glanced over at the elder boy, who was doodling on his notebook as he often did in class. Was he boring him? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung’s nerves ended up in him forgetting most of the questions that he and Taeil rehearsed. He truly didn’t know what to say. He was hoping that Yuta didn’t feel pressured to carry on the conversation, he didn’t want him to feel like he was conducting an interview. Eventually, Yuta’s voice cut through the dense air again. “I know Yeri wanted to make a song, but who exactly is going to sing?” he questioned, sharp eyebrows furrowed. Doyoung shrugged. He cringed at the thought that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>would be the one singing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Music was Doyoung’s life, from the moment he could put together pitches properly to form a tune. He had joined his school’s choir at a young age and quickly became known amongst his peers for his angelic voice. His parents would ridicule the idea that Doyoung wanted to continue studying music throughout university. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘You’ll never get anywhere with that useless degree. Why don’t you study something that you’ll actually use in the real world?’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>his father would argue. Doyoung’s mother was a little more accepting though nonetheless feared for her son’s success and future. He knew they only wanted what was best for him, but still wished he had their unconditional support. Who would want to waste their life away in an office chair 9 to 5 just to bring home barely enough money for rent? Certainly not Doyoung, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know Mina is a music major. She’ll probably do it,” Doyoung replied after pondering the question. That wasn’t the answer Yuta wanted, though. And he knew that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, so are you. Can you sing?” He looked at Doyoung with wide eyes--as if his eyes weren’t already so wide, that Doyoung didn’t think they could get bigger. “I mean, I guess. Whether I’m good or not is up to the listener.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuta’s face lit up. “Let me hear you sing, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?! Not here, not now. It’s way too quiet in here. You could hear a pin drop.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on…” Yuta’s voice started to shift to a plea. “You can’t just say you can sing and then not sing for me?! Now you legally have to show me. Let’s go somewhere else.” He started to put away his notebook in a rush, but Doyoung didn’t follow. The younger rubbed his forehead with his hand. He had no time to prepare for something like this. There always needed to be a plan. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ai… </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yuta… can it wait until another day?” Doyoung exasperated, checking the time. “It’s pretty late anyway.” The blonde boy’s face fell slightly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not again. Did I seriously just reject him again? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Doyoung thought to himself. The sight of Yuta’s disappointment disheartened him, and almost made him feel guilty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say, tomorrow morning. Okay?” he quickly suggested in hopes of lifting the mood. Yuta’s disappointed look was replaced by his beautiful smile again. “Deal. The park at noon. Be there or be square?” Yuta smirked, holding his hand out to seal the deal. Doyoung grasped it--which was surprisingly smooth, but decorated in rings--and smiled a somewhat challenging smile. They shook firmly twice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deal.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. friday, november 6th</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Friday, November 6th</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It was 11:30 A.M., sunny weather that was oddly warm for a November day, and Doyoung had just sat down in the shade of a large tree by the park just south of their campus near the Han river. It was the morning that him and Yuta would meet again. He decided to show up early, partly because it gave him some control over the situation. This time <em> he </em> decided where to sit, <em> he </em> was able to text that he was there, and <em> he </em>got to see Yuta walk over to him.</p><p>Around 15 minutes passed and Doyoung finally saw Yuta’s figure walking towards him. Thankfully, he was far away enough to where Doyoung could take in his full beauty and the elder wouldn’t really notice. Yuta was wearing gray polo sweatshirt, black jeans, and white sneakers. A simple outfit that he made look better than anything Doyoung could put together. As he got closer, his silver necklace and earrings glistened in the sunlight. A blush began to creep up on Doyoung’s cheeks at the beauty of him--this boy was literally sparkling. He looked away hoping the crimson would disappear by doing so.</p><p>“Good morning!” Yuta exclaimed in a sing-song manner from a slight distance, throwing his hand up in the air. He made his way next to Doyoung’s place on the ground. How he was that energetic, Doyoung didn’t know.</p><p>“Morning,” Doyoung smiled.</p><p>The elder set his belongings down and plopped back into the grass, sighing. “It’s such a nice day. Perfect for singing outside, don’t you think?” His arms were above his head as he sat back against the tree, hands propping his head up like a pillow.</p><p>Doyoung rolled his eyes. “Clever. Now what exactly do you want me to sing?”</p><p>Yuta pondered for a moment, eyes closed while taking in the sunlight. “Do whatever you’re comfortable with,” he said, squinting over at Doyoung. He had hoped he would say this, as he prepared a song earlier, but wasn’t sure what Yuta would really want to hear. His consideracy for Doyoung was endearing.</p><p>“Okay, I guess… I’ll sing IU.”</p><p>Yuta smiled. “Oh, a ballad song? Now you’ve really piqued my interest.” He sat up in his place against the tree. “Well, you didn’t suggest anything else,” Doyoung retorted.</p><p>“Whatever, you already know I’m excited to hear your vocals.”</p><p>Doyoung sighed and was all at once overcome with a wave of embarrassment. He never thought that he would sing for Yuta, let alone be in his presence like this. Alone--together. He was nervous yet giddy inside. He sucked his breath in, hastily hit play, and a melodic, piano instrumental started to resonate from his phone.</p><p>And there he started to sing. Soft and hesitant at first, feeling Yuta’s observant eyes on him even though his own were closed. He began to get lost in the moment. It was hard for him not to slip into reverie with music. His life, his dreams, his day to day hobby. It was everything for him. It was what he had when there was nothing else. Soon, his hesitance faded and the more he thought about each carefully constructed note, each pitch, the more comfortable he became when singing in front of Yuta.</p><p>The song ended without his realizing.</p><p>“You’re… amazing.” Yuta’s comment opened his eyes and snapped him back into reality. Doyoung blushed realizing how deeply into his singing he was. He was so into it that he even forgot Yuta was there at one point, listening with full attention. “Seriously, Doyoung. Your voice is beautiful. I’ve never heard anything like it. It makes me embarrassed to even think about myself singing,” Yuta spoke again, amazement in his voice. </p><p>“Now you’re going overboard.”</p><p>“Sorry, I’m just in awe. Wow.” The elder shook his head in disbelief. His blonde hair glowed in the sunlight, making Doyoung’s jet black locks look boring and pitiful. Anyone couldn’t help but to stare at him. And Doyoung was suddenly aware that he was staring when Yuta’s eyes linked with his. “Well,” he coughed, “thank you, Yuta. That means a lot.” Doyoung didn’t know how to react to compliments, especially coming from him. Although he stopped staring, Yuta was still drilling holes into him with his piercing eyes as he dodged eye contact in anyway possible. </p><p>Truth be told, Nakamoto Yuta always thought the younger boy was gorgeous. No one knew that. But seeing him in this light--this morning light, doing what he’s most passionate about, this vulnerable state--made his heart do cartwheels. </p><p>“So, um, should we start coming up with lyrics? A melody, or a beat?” </p><p>Yuta was snapped out of his trance at Doyoung’s soft reply.</p><p> </p><p>• • •</p><p> </p><p>After around an hour of brainstorming, conversating, studying, and taking breaks to lay back in the grass, the pair managed to come up with a few lyrics. Of course, Yeri, Mina, and Jungwoo would have to approve, but with Doyoung’s musicality and Yuta’s creativity, they were sure the group would anyway. The two sat in satisfaction at what they’ve accomplished while making small talk about random things.<em> ‘Do you see that duck? It’s coming near us,’ said Yuta. ‘It’s cute.’ ‘We should collect some seeds and feed it.’ ‘Very funny, but I think I’m past my primal hunter-gatherer stage.’ </em></p><p>Suddenly, a repetitive dinging sound disrupted their serenity. Doyoung reached into his pocket for his phone. 3 missed calls from Taeil and a loud text that seemed to be stuck in capital letters.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Taeil</b>
</p><p>MAYDAY. MAYDAY. WHERE R U</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Doyoung</b>
</p><p>???</p><p>i’m with yuta at the park</p><p>you’re making me nervous what is it</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Taeil</b>
</p><p>I FUCKED UP. NO RUSH BUT U SHOULD COME HOME ASAP XOXO🌙</p><p> </p><p>Doyoung’s heart dropped. When Taeil texted in caps lock, he knew he meant business. And it was safe to assume that, whatever it was, it had to do with himself. Yuta must have noticed the concern across Doyoung’s face. “Is everything alright?”</p><p>Doyoung looked up from his phone wide-eyed. “Oh, yeah. Um… I think my roommate needs me. He said ‘ASAP’, in all caps, too,” he laughed nervously. “Leaving again so soon, Kim Doyoung? You are one busy bee,” Yuta smiled in reassurance. “Better get going then, Mr. Social Butterfly.”</p><p>“I’m sorry…”</p><p>“Don’t be, I’m just teasing you.” Yuta said, nudging Doyoung’s upper arm. “We’ll make up for it later.”</p><p>As he said that, Doyoung could’ve sworn he saw him wink. But he was so preoccupied with saying his goodbye’s, getting the hell out of there, and seeing what was up with Taeil that he couldn’t say for certain. It was likely an illusion, because in Doyoung’s mind there was no universe in which Yuta would ever wink at him.</p><p> </p><p>• • •</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus fucking Christ, Taeil. Just as I was in the middle of hanging out with Yuta, and you had to go and scare me with your mysterious little text. Do you realize how anxious you made me? I literally couldn’t even sit still on the train ba-...” Doyoung stopped himself short of his rant when he realized Taeil was sitting on their sofa, staring, his face plagued with… worry? Anxiety? A mix of both? Who knows. “What’s going on with you?” he asked, setting down his backpack on the floor as he entered their living room.</p><p>Taeil sighed, and straightened himself up. “Doie, I literally fucked up.”</p><p>“Okay, I know that, genius. Tell me how.” Doyoung was getting frustrated.</p><p>“So, you know how I’m good friends with Johnny, right?” Doyoung nodded in response. “Well, I was on facetime with him and Jaehyun. We were playing some games, you know, our usual thing. And I, being very excited for you, told them the good news about your new crush.” </p><p>“WHAT?!” Doyoung raised his voice in disbelief. </p><p>“DON’T YELL AT ME! <em> You </em> are the one who failed to tell me that <em> YUTA IS THEIR BEST FRIEND </em>.”</p><p>“Their<em> BEST FRIEND </em>?!”</p><p>His heart started to race. He genuinely had no idea who Yuta was friends with, mostly because he didn’t care to know. He should’ve suspected he would be friends with two of the most well known people in their university. </p><p>“Wait, so you didn’t know either?” </p><p>“No, I didn’t know, you god damn idiot!” Doyoung cried out in response. </p><p>“Huh, that makes me feel a little worse then.”</p><p>“You should feel bad! Like, <em> really </em> bad!” Doyoung laid back on the sofa, face in his palms while making weird moaning noises. “Oh, my God... He’s gonna know everything now.”</p><p>“Chill out, Do! They’re not going to say anything to him. I mean, I hope they won’t. But they honestly want to see how this plays out, too. They’re rooting for you guys. And you know, the even said Yuta seemed a little happier nowadays.”</p><p>“Oh, please. That is such a load of shit. They’re going to tell him and my life is ruined. How am I supposed to survive the next 4 weeks when he knows that I think he’s hot as fuck?!”</p><p>Taeil shifted in his spot, scooting closer to Doyoung--who was now curled up in a fetal position on their sofa--and patting his back. “You always think the worst of things, Doyoung. Don’t be so pessimistic for once and just trust that none of that will happen. Besides, now that they know, they can help you out, too.” Doyoung laid as Taeil made an effort to comfort him. Deep down, he knew he was right, and he was probably overreacting. It wasn’t the end of the world but it sure felt like it. How else is someone supposed to react to something like this? Doyoung decided he needed to be confident. Even if Yuta did end up finding out, it wasn’t <em> that </em>bad. He would see it out and once this miserable 4 weeks was over, he could ghost his number for eternity and forget it ever happened. That is, if Yuta wasn’t interested. Perhaps his friends really could help Doyoung out.</p><p>The two roommates sat together on their sofa for the rest of the night. They ordered a pizza, turned on some random Netflix movie, and Doyoung ignored the texts from Yuta that he eventually received following up on what happened.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Yuta</b>
</p><p>hey, hated to see you leave so soon.. &lt;/3 lol</p><p>was wondering if everything was okay with your roommate?</p><p>anyway, see you on tuesday ^^</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. tuesday, november 10th</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Tuesday, November 10th</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The weekend passed slowly. Doyoung was glad--he didn’t want to face Yuta again. He was afraid of the worst: over the weekend, Johnny or Jaehyun let it slip that Doyoung had a thing for him, resulting in the two never speaking again. It was an overexaggerated, pessimistic thought that he couldn’t help but feel after past experiences with rejection. He had hope that they kept their mouths shut and trusted Taeil’s faith in them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He entered the classroom to find groups already linked up, conversating about due dates and division of labor. Doyoung’s group was doing so as well--except they were hardly talking about the project and more about the party that Jaehyun is hosting on Thursday.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here comes the man of the hour! Dae-...Doyoung!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jungwoo laughed as Doyoung took his seat between Yeri and Yuta. “You should be elected class clown, Jungwoo,” he replied snarkily. Yuta chuckled to himself at the younger boy’s remark. “Wait, I think you’re onto something.” Jungwoo looked genuinely perplexed as he began texting someone, because clearly his sarcasm went right over his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doyoung, the lyrics you and Yuta wrote so far are literally so cute,” Yeri stated. “Mina and I are going to come up with some more to do our part.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Yeri,” he smiled at her. It wasn’t because he was in Yuta’s presence, or anything. No, of course not. It’s not like the song was about crushing on someone. Or... was it?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No problem! And Jungwoo, what exactly can </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> do?” she said with an annoyed look. “Chill! I’ll do the powerpoint as long as you guys work on the song. I might even be able to get you guys into my friend’s recording studio,” he replied smugly, leaning back into his chair. “Your friend has a recording studio?” Doyoung asked, his interest piqued. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jungwoo rubbed his neck. “Well… technically it’s not his studio. I mean, he just works at this place. As a janitor,” he coughed out nonchalantly, causing everyone to groan. “But he has the keys!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will not be partaking in breaking and entering,” said Mina.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not breaking if you have the keys. Just entering, babes.” Jungwoo took a chip from his snack bag and crunched it between his teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, we can figure that out once we get there,” Yuta interjected. “We still need lyrics and a beat.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Doyoung nodded in reply. “I agree. My roommate is pretty good at the piano, and I know a guy who can do guitar. If we can get some recordings and ideas from them, we should be good,” he suggested.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The group nodded and made sounds of agreement in unison.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>• • <span>•</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the class consisted of useless group conversations and back and forth’s between Jungwoo and Yeri. Secretly, Yuta and Doyoung agreed that the two had an unspoken chemistry. They made a pact on how long it would take for them to acknowledge this. Doyoung said 2 more weeks—Yuta shot for this Thursday.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are we all going to Jaehyun’s party on Thursday?” Jungwoo asked before class ended. “I’ll go if Mina goes,” Yeri said, looking at the girl next to her. “I mean, Mark said he was going…” The group erupted in </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘ooh’s</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I never said we were going together!” she defended with a blush forming on her cheeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going. Johnny and Jaehyun are basically dragging me into it this time,” said Yuta. Doyoung remembered how Yuta was trying not to commit to partying less this semester. This must be a big event for him to break his party-free streak. “What about you, Doyoung?” he asked afterwards.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I don’t party. I doubt it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“BOOO,” Jungwoo shouted, and Yuta kicked at his leg from underneath the table, causing him to wince. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have shit to do, you know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was annoyed at the fact that people looked down on him for never attending parties. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated </span>
  </em>
  <span>social outings. Let alone parties, with everyone’s sweaty, drunk, high bodies filling the disgustingly dense air. The music was shit. The dancing was awkward. The drinks were usually bad. What was there for him to enjoy?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright, ignore him. Maybe we’ll see you at the next one,” Yuta spoke up in reassurance. He was good at that.</span>
</p>
<p><span>The professor dismissed class, and the group parted their ways, with various ‘</span><em><span>bye</span></em><span>’s and ‘</span><em><span>I’ll text</span></em> <em><span>you</span></em><span>’s. Doyoung hadn’t brought up the events of Friday to Yuta during class, and Yuta didn’t mention his unreplied-to text, either. Perhaps it was something that would be brushed off the shoulder. He didn’t have a good excuse for Taeil’s so-called urgent matter. Doyoung walked out of class alone and felt a twinge of guilt. Did he upset Yuta for not replying? Was Yuta still concerned? Or did he forget? Maybe he didn’t even care after all. And suddenly the guilt was replaced by a twinge of disappointment instead. Doyoung had, deep down, wished Yuta cared enough to ask again about his abrupt departure. He realized that he </span><em><span>was</span></em><span> guilty for not replying, and Yuta shouldn’t have to put such an effort into worrying about a guy he only just met. But Doyoung still hoped.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Doyoung!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A familiar voice called out to him, making his heart jump and his mind go blank. He quickly turned around, and there was Yuta, jogging towards him with that beautiful goddamn smile. He stopped in his place so the elder could catch up to him. Watching him run was truly a spectacle! He was a natural athlete, for sure. Why did Doyoung have to look like a flailing chicken while running? “Hi,” Yuta said breathily once he caught up to him, trying to regain his composure. “I thought I lost you for a sec.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Doyoung felt guilty again, “I didn’t realize you were looking for me.” He fiddled with the hem of his sweater.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No worries. I just wanted to check up on you. And your roommate,” Yuta said between breaths. “You never replied to my text.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Great, Doyoung. You disappoint him day by day, and he still accepts it and comes back to you. What is wrong with you?! </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I know, I’m so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>sorry about that. I forgot, and one thing led to another. By then it seemed too late to reply. My roommate was just having a crisis over some family drama. No biggie.” A straight up lie, right through his teeth. He wondered if Yuta actually bought it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, okay. Good thing it’s nothing serious. Was starting to think someone died,” he chuckled, standing up straight. “Are you heading somewhere? Sorry for keeping you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just heading home,” said Doyoung, “no rush. I’ve nothing to do there anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm…” Yuta placed his hands on his hips as if he were mentally debating something. “Well, anyway, you should reconsider coming to the party on Thursday. It’s one of our other foreign exchange friend’s birthdays, and Jaehyun and Johnny always go all out for birthday parties. It’ll be really</span>
  <em>
    <span> funnn</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Yuta said, poking at Doyoung’s arm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As convincing as you are,” Doyoung shooed the older boy’s finger away, “I really do have things to do on Thursday.” He most likely had a paper due, and he could easily finish it tonight if he pleased. But he was looking for anything at this point to get him out of this. The last thing he wanted to see was someone grinding up on his crush.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aww, alright,” Yuta pouted. “If you change your mind, though, I’ll see you there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Doyoung pinched the skin between his eyes. “Agh… Sure, Yuta. Just don’t get your hopes up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh they’re up! I have nothing but hope!” he exclaimed, throwing a fist in the air and beginning to walk the other direction. “And, by the way, don’t hesitate to text me again. I wouldn't care if it’s been a week, or a month. Bye-bye!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Doyoung smiled and waved goodbye as he watched Yuta walk away. His blonde hair bounced with each of his steps, which were quite bouncy themselves. It reminded him of the first time they talked at this intersection of sidewalks. Except this time, he so desperately wanted Yuta to turn around and come back to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wondered if this is what Yuta felt seeing himself walk away on Friday.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. thursday, november 12th</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Thursday, November 12th</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It had been a week since Doyoung’s MUS 505 group was formed. Only a week, and yet it was the most eventful week for him since the beginning of the semester. The air was already starting to cool drastically. People on campus were bundled in thick coats and lined boots, clinging onto their friends and significant others like penguins huddling for warmth. Doyoung only needed himself, though. That, and his trusty black parka. It helped him survive almost 3 winters on campus with ease. </p><p>His classes had ended for the day. On Tuesday and Thursday, he had MUS 505. But coincidentally today’s class was cancelled. Of course, it was the day of Jaehyun’s big party, and he hadn’t heard from any of his group mates since Tuesday. He assumed they were too occupied with party preparation to bother sending them any texts.</p><p>On his walk back to his shared apartment, he thought about Yuta. Doyoung hadn’t really had the chance to fully process the events of this week, but, <em> holy shit, </em> he had already hung out with Yuta <em> twice </em>. He could say now that he knew him well enough outside of class to consider him an acquaintance, or even a new friend. Him, friends with this well-rounded, sociable, elite campus athlete? It seemed incompatible to him at first, but the more he talked to Yuta the more he found that Yuta was more than just what society had made him to be. Doyoung would observe the other boy’s quirks and make note of his thoughts and ideas, and concluded that he was sensitive, wise, and slightly—for lack of better words—weird.</p><p>Doyoung entered his apartment expecting to see Taeil in the kitchen fixing dinner. Yet, he was nowhere in sight, which surprised him. After hanging his coat and taking his shoes off by their front door, he walked deeper into the hallway of rooms to find Taeil’s door a crack open, a barely audible song playing in the background. He knocked on the door with his finger before peeking inside. “Taeil? You in there?”</p><p>“Huh?” he watched Taeil turn around from his desk, his raised eyebrows settling at the sight of his younger roommate. “Oh, hey Dodo. Did you just get back?” </p><p>Taeil’s hair had been slicked and styled up, revealing his forehead and his undercut that were often hidden by his everyday rarely-styled hair. He was wearing a leather jacket and patterned button up underneath, and silver jewelry adorning his neck and ears. He only did himself up on special occasions, and Doyoung began to suspect that the two hosts had invited Taeil to the party as well—even if he had long since graduated.</p><p>“Yeah, a few minutes ago,” Doyoung replied, stepping further into the room with one eyebrow raised in confusion. “Where are <em> you </em> going? You only dress up like this once in a blue moon.”</p><p>“Johnny and Jaehyun invited me to their party. Did you hear about it? Like, damn, I really can’t miss <em> that. </em>”</p><p>“Oh, trust me. It’s all people were talking about. Yuta told me to go but I have some things I need to do.”</p><p>“What?!” Taeil said in disbelief, setting down an eyebrow pencil to turn back to Doyoung. “No, no, that shit can wait, Doyoung. I know you’re making some lame excuse up so you don’t have to be social. You’re going whether you like it or not.”</p><p>“I like how you’re making <em> my </em>decision for me. I’m not going, have fun,” Doyoung asserted before standing up to leave.</p><p>“Wait! Can’t you just hear me out?” The younger turned around in a sigh and waited for Taeil to speak his reasonings.</p><p>“Imagine, you walk in looking so fucking hot—like, the best you’ve ever looked—and I text Johnny and Jaehyun to lure Yuta near the entrance. And as you walk in fashionably late, Yuta catches sight of you. He’s literally blown away. This leads to that, you talk, you have sex-”</p><p>“Woah woah woah, WHAT?” Doyoung cut him off. “Where the hell did that come from? I’m <em> not </em>fucking him. Not tonight, at least.” Taeil rolled his eyes. “Okay, my bad. You talk, you have an ‘intimate time together’-”</p><p>“Can you stop with that?! God, Yuta and I are just friends. I think he’s attractive. Nothing more.” He didn’t want to ruin things with his crush this early on. Besides, the crush wasn’t fully formed, and if anything, he didn’t want to jeopardize this newfound friendship. “Alright, alright!” Taeil sighed in annoyance. “You get to know him better. Don’t you at least want that? Especially when you look delicious?”</p><p>Doyoung contemplated his life at this moment. He was truly being stiff, and hadn’t attended a party in around a year. He hated events. What was the point of standing around a ton of strangers only to get blackout drunk or high off your mind and be ridiculously embarrassing? He much preferred get-togethers with his close knit group of friends. He dragged his hand down his face in defeat. “Oh my God… fine. Fine. Just, help me pick an outfit out before I change my mind.”</p><p>As soon as he said this, Taeil literally jumped to his feet, pushed him away from the door, and ran to Doyoung’s closet.</p><p> </p><p>• • •</p><p> </p><p>“Should I tell Yuta?” Doyoung asked. </p><p>Taeil was driving them to Jaehyun’s house after the two finished getting ready. It had already been an hour since the party was supposed to start, so they figured this was the prime time to show up, when most people were already there. “No,” Taeil replied, “surprise him. He probably thinks you won’t show since you’re stubborn.” The younger jerked the steering wheel in retaliation and caused Taeil to panic. “You need to stop doing that or you’ll get us goddamn killed!” </p><p>They eventually reached their destination after a 15 minute drive. Jaehyun and Johnny’s house was gigantic compared to the compact apartment the two roommates lived in. Doyoung knew they were both pretty well off, hence why they had been so popular amongst the university. Jaehyun was basically a model and Johnny was a successful photographer—the perfect combination.</p><p>The outfit Taeil picked out wasn’t too overkill: a loose white buttoned shirt (that was unbuttoned <em> pretty </em> low, per Taeil’s advice), black pants and black ankle boots. It was just the right amount of effectiveness he would need to turn heads. They parked their car, and straightened themselves up before heading up to the door.</p><p>Just as they reached the final step to enter, Taeil’s phone started to blow up with notifications. His eyes widened at his phone as he started to rapidly type in response. Doyoung was already nervous, and it seemed like his roommate would only ever add on to his anxiety in these situations. “Are you good? Who’s blowing up your phone?” he asked. Taeil looked up with the same wide-eyed expression. “Doie… I don’t know if-”</p><p>Suddenly the front door burst open and to an already-drunk Ten. “Boys! What are you waiting outside for, Christmas?!” he yelled, slightly stumbling his way over to Taeil. “Well, too bad, cause it’s <em> my </em> day,” he continued, throwing his arm around Doyoung’s roommate. “Is it just me or did Taeil get shorter?”</p><p>“Okay, let’s just go inside, Ten,” Doyoung started to push the two of them by their backs through the doorframe when Taeil looked back at him. “Doyoung, I wasn’t finished!”</p><p>“Tell me later then! You wanted me to come to this party, and now you wanna have a serious talk?!” he shouted over the sound of the music blaring from the party, frustration clear in his voice. Taeil looked concerned, but turned back around as Ten dragged him inside. <em> Must not have been that serious. </em></p><p>After getting a good scope of his surroundings, Doyoung concluded that this was the biggest fucking party he had ever seen. The music was so loud he could barely hear his own thoughts. People were crowded, bumping into each other at every turn, every constrained dance move. LED lights were placed upon the corners of the ceilings turning each room colors of blue, red, purple, and more. A large banner hung from the entryway hall, saying, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TEN, YOU OLD BITCH!!!”. Who knows where they got that made. Jaehyun had clearly put a lot of effort and time into making this party for his friend. Doyoung could see why everyone was hyping it up so much, even if he hated the idea of it.</p><p>He also wasn’t fond of drinking. He’d had bad experiences with alcohol that turned him away from it for a while. Yet, there him and his roommate were in the kitchen, having some red concoction being poured into a cup for them. “It’s jungle juice,” Ten said, handing Doyoung the plastic cup. “‘Cause this shit makes you wild. Seriously.” </p><p>“No kidding,” he said while looking at Ten’s sloppy state. “How many of these have you had?”</p><p>“I lost count!” Ten started bursting out in an uncontrollable laughter. Taeil and Doyoung saw this as their cue to leave.</p><p>They looked around for familiar faces. Doyoung, while looking through the crowd, had just realized that Yuta was nowhere to be seen. He was hoping all would go well, and was wondering what had happened to Taeil’s original plan. Yuta was <em> supposed </em> to be at the front of the house to see him when he walked in. But where was he? And why didn’t Taeil say anything about it? Perhaps, that was what his texts were about…?</p><p>A familiar voice approached them from behind. Kim Jungwoo, who yelled out to Doyoung. “Do! What the hell? Look who decided to have fun!” Doyoung had also realized that Taeil was no longer by his side. He was about to panic, but decided to turn to Jungwoo instead. “Please, I don’t wanna hear it, clown,” Doyoung replied. “My roommate dragged me here.”</p><p>“Hey, just saying, you’re the last person I expected to see here.” Jungwoo scanned Doyoung in an obvious manner. “You clean up nicely, though.”</p><p>Doyoung gave him a death glare. “Have you seen Yuta?” Jungwoo pondered his question for a while, probably spacing out for a minute.</p><p>“I think… I saw him earlier? Oh wait, yeah! He’s here somewhere. Pretty sure he’s with some girl. They might even be upstairs with the way it looked like they were talking.”</p><p>Doyoung’s heart dropped. So, this was probably what Taeil had found out earlier. He had let his own self-interest get in the way when he could’ve known this a <em> long </em>time ago, long enough ago where he could’ve just left and not dealt with it. But leaving now would’ve looked bad, and his guilt would have gotten to him for ditching Taeil. And so he stood there, wanting to cry but also wanting to throw up. What was he supposed to do now?</p><p>“Hello? Did you hear me?” Jungwoo asked, and Doyoung realized he hadn’t responded and probably looked like a deer in headlights. “Oh, yeah, sorry. It’s just this,” he lifted his cup, “whatever the hell this is, it’s making me sick.”</p><p>“Oh, ew. I’m gonna leave so you <em> don’t </em>throw up on me. This shirt wasn’t cheap. Good luck,” Jungwoo said and disappeared into the crowd. </p><p>And then he was alone. Doyoung needed to find Taeil before he had a breakdown in the middle of this raging party scene. The last thing he wanted right now was to see his all over someone else so he needed to leave as quickly as possible. And of course THIS would happen to him. His worst possible scenario came true and yet people wonder why he’s always so nihilistic. The universe forces were literally out to get him. And maybe, just maybe, if he hadn’t let Taeil get to him, he would’ve never known about Yuta and this mystery girl. Never will he do something social again.</p><p>Doyoung scoured the party in search of Taeil. Going through each room, each door he could find, and eventually upstairs, to which there was no sight of his roommate. It wasn’t like Taeil was particularly tall or easy to spot, so it was like trying to find Waldo. He reached the last possible room (only finding two people making out and immediately shutting the door) before giving up. He pulled out his phone.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Doyoung</b>
</p><p>where tf are you? i’ve literally searched this entire house for you</p><p>please hurry. it’s urgent.</p><p> </p><p>There was a tap on his arm as he was looking down at his screen. Doyoung looked up expecting to see Taeil, but damn, he was so wrong. Yuta was right in front of him, flashing his wide smile that was so perfect each time, Doyoung almost forgot what he was told earlier. </p><p>“Doyoung.”</p><p>“Yuta.” </p><p>Doyoung wasn’t sure how to talk to him, let alone approach him anymore. The upstairs areas were quieter than downstairs, and the older boy paused before speaking again, his eyes studying Doyoung’s physique. “I didn’t think you would be here.”</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung suddenly felt small under Yuta’s gaze—he was taller than him, yet felt as if he were the shorter one. He noticed how stunning the blonde looked under the colorful lighting. He wore a dark colored blouse and ripped jeans with shiny oxford shoes. Silver earrings decorated his ears with a dangly cross hanging down his left one. His outfit looked neatly put together, making Doyoung wonder if he had actually engaged in anything with this girl or not. Why else would he be upstairs, though? Doyoung shifted in his place feeling scrutinized by Yuta’s wandering eyes. “I didn’t want to be,” he responded. “My roommate basically forced me to. I really, really wish I wasn’t here, though.”</span>
</p><p>“What? You’re not having fun?”</p><p>“Absolutely, 100% negative. It smells like sweat and weed.”</p><p>Yuta smiled again and checked his watch. “Then let’s leave.”</p><p>“What?!” Doyoung said, shock masking his face. “No, I can’t just leave my friend here alone.”</p><p>“Oh, come on, Doyoung,” Yuta pleaded while moving to Doyoung’s side. “You don’t want to be here, I could care less being here. You’re not having fun. AND, your roommate is a big boy. He’s fine in the hands of John and Jae. So, let’s ditch and do something fun.”</p><p>Doyoung palmed his forehead. Why would he want to spend alone time with him, only feeding into his unrealistic fantasies? Did Yuta suddenly forget he brought someone here? Where was she, anyway? Did he just hit it and quit it?</p><p>“What about the girl you brought?” Doyoung asked with a hint of annoyance. He may have regret saying it after he said it. But still, it was a valid question. Yuta furrowed his eyebrows in bewilderment. “Girl I brought? Who said I brought someone here?”</p><p>“Jungwoo, actually. I saw him earlier and he said you were with someone.” </p><p>Yuta laughed out loud to himself after hearing this, and Doyoung was suddenly all the more confused. He didn’t know what was so funny. “<em> God </em>, Kim Jungwoo. What an airhead.”</p><p>“Okay, now I’m lost.”</p><p>“That <em> girl </em> is my coworker. She’s also not into <em> men. </em>” God fucking damnit, Doyoung. God damnit to Taeil, to Jungwoo, and whoever else made him believe that this was it for his crush. He felt like throwing up again--not this time because he was upset, but because he was utterly embarrassed. “Oh, sorry,” Doyoung replied shortly before looking down at his phone and sending an angry text to Taeil. </p><p>“It’s fine. Well, actually, does that mean you’ll agree to ditch this shithole with me?”</p><p>This was all Doyoung could’ve hoped for--but definitely not the way he wanted to go about it. Deep down, he was hoping that Yuta would’ve seen him when he walked in and made his jaw drop. He wanted Yuta to be so amazed that he would take him away, sweep him off his feet and relieve him of his misery. Stuff like that--as Doyoung now had a reality check--only happened in movies. It felt pathetic of him to imagine such a scenario. </p><p>So, he smiled. Things were starting to look up for him. “Fine, Nakamoto.”</p><p>And as he said that, Yuta grabbed his wrist and began to drag him downstairs. They were almost out the door, when they were stopped by Johnny and Jaehyun. “Yuta?” Johnny yelled, walking over. “Where the hell are you going?! The cake hasn’t even come out yet!” He noticed Yuta’s hand wrapped around someone’s wrist, and looked up to see Doyoung smiling awkwardly. Johnny had a knowing look on his face. “Oh, <em> hello </em> Doyoung.”</p><p>Before he could respond, Yuta cut him off. “Wait a sec, you know Doyoung?” Yuta was now confused, as he must have thought he was the only one who knew about him. That meant the two guys really did keep his secret, therefore earning Doyoung’s trust.</p><p>“Yeah,” Jaehyun spoke up, his words sounding slurred, “We just found out that he’s Taeil’s roommate. It’s a small world, right?”</p><p>Yuta looked at Doyoung quizzically. “I didn’t think it was relevant,” Doyoung shrugged. A lie, indeed. But it was already this deep that it only made sense to keep it going. He’d tell him the truth when the time came. For now, ignorance was bliss. “Where are you two going?” Johnny’s smirk was undeniable and only made Doyoung’s cheeks burn intensely. The fact that he knew was unsettling. “Doyoung wasn’t having fun. We were gonna head outside for a bit. Ten is so out of it I doubt he’d realize we’re gone, anyway.”</p><p>“Oh,” Jaehyun interjected, “so you’re gonna show him some <em> fun? </em> ” <em> That asshole. </em> Doyoung’s face started to burn from anger rather than embarrassment. It was a good thing he was behind Yuta, so the older boy couldn’t see the way he was glaring at the pair. “Oh, Jaehyunnie… you should really lay off the drinks before you embarrass yourself again,” Yuta said slyly. Jaehyun’s face dropped and he backed down. <em> You know not to talk about that, </em>he mumbled. The younger wasn’t sure what he meant, but whatever it was worked. </p><p>“Go have fun,” Johnny shooed them in a sweeping motion. “I’ll tell Ten you said happy birthday.”</p><p>“Ah, Seo Youngho. Always so reliable.” The two did a handshake (which was oddly intricate?) as their goodbye.</p><p>The two were soon out of the house and into the empty streets. Doyoung now realized over an hour had passed since he arrived. It was almost midnight by now. Yuta was giggling as he pulled them along the sidewalk. “Where are we even going?!” Doyoung shouted from behind. </p><p>“I don’t know, but that’s what makes it fun, right?!” the blonde boy yelled, looking back to him. He gave him an uncertain smile in response. This was going to be one hell of a night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sorry this took so long, im trying to finish but i also have classes to keep up with :’( do yall even like this idk but we’re this far so i’m gonna just try to finish anyway</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. friday, november 13th</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW this chapter mentions very brief and vague homophobia! when i say brief i mean like only once, but if it makes you uncomfortable just skip past yuta’s talk about his past!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Friday, November 13th</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>12:21 AM. The two had left the party long ago, now walking further away from the houses where Johnny and Jaehyun had lived and closer into the city. Neither knew where to go--they didn’t bother figuring it out, either. They let the night take them wherever it decided. And so, as they stood in front of a tall office building, Doyoung’s nerves were running wild at the thought that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>was alone with Yuta. Not some girl, not his friends. That thought was exhilarating to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While walking, they had occasionally chatted about nothing in particular. Doyoung found out that Yuta was from Osaka, and moved to Korea for his freshman year of college. He studied Korean language in high school and throughout his college years--hence why he seemed so fluent now. Yuta had an interest in Korean culture for a while and wanted to pursue his education studying abroad there. His family still lived in Japan. He didn’t talk about them much and Doyoung didn’t push him to. He missed them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuta also learned things about Doyoung he hadn’t known before. He was born and raised in Guri to two loving parents. Nothing more, nothing less. Ever since his childhood, he devoted his life to music. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung was reserved and rarely told people about his life, his childhood, and upbringings. He hated talking about himself. There were few people who knew about him in this manner, and he would have rather kept it this way. But Yuta was different. He was inviting, he listened, he was genuinely interested in anything you said to him--and Doyoung felt compelled to tell him everything he wanted to know. It was amazing how different he pictured his crush before. That Yuta was cold, confident, and intimidating. The Yuta in front of him right now was just a compassionate boy who was excited to chase his dreams and make friends in this unfamiliar, foreign territory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuta had claimed he ‘knew a place’ that had a ‘mind-blowing view’ from the top. It turned out to be a random building that he had no idea how Yuta knew about. Yuta knew about a lot, actually. He had so many connections that Doyoung wouldn’t be shocked if they happened to bump into someone on the street who knew who he was. So he didn’t ask questions—he quietly and obediently followed behind the shorter blonde boy inside the sliding doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The building on the interior was nothing more than a bleak apartment complex. Mailboxes lined the blank white wall to their left. A desk to the right. It was quiet, and whoever was </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be at the front desk was absent. They were lucky that this was the case instead of Yuta having to come up with an explanation for their presence. “Follow me,” Yuta whispered, waving Doyoung towards the two main elevators which were tucked down a hall just past the main lobby. “Where are you taking me, Nakamoto?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll see,” he replied shortly before pressing the elevator button.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate surprises, just so you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuta looked at the dark haired boy with a smirk. “Wow. You really hold true to your character, Dongyoung.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doyoung,” he corrected him sharply. “And what exactly is my character to you?” As soon as he asked, the elevator door dinged open. “Well isn’t that good timing. Ladies first?” Yuta smiled and held his hand out towards the elevator. The younger rolled his eyes before entering, with Yuta following behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took them up to the 8th and last floor of the building. After walking out of the elevator and to the end of the long hallway, there was a door that led to a concrete staircase. Doyoung noticed plastered on the door was an ‘Employees Only’ sign in red bold letters. But Yuta was already opening it expecting Doyoung to follow. “Yuta, what the hell? Are you trying to get us arrested?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relax, nobody monitors this area anyway,” he half-whispered, holding the door open. “I used to come here with Johnny and Jaehyun to, you know, smoke.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung raised his eyebrow at the blonde, who looked back in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘you coming?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> expression. “Jesus, why are you so into doing illegal shit? If we get caught, you’re walking so I can run.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. That won’t happen, but I’d certainly do that for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung entered in front of him, smiling to himself at the older boy’s coy comment. He hated the effect he had on him. Everything Yuta said or suggested only made his stomach do backflips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked up the concrete staircase and to a door that Doyoung assumed to be the rooftop door. He opened it and was met with a gust of chill nighttime air and city noises. Upon walking to the ledge of the rooftop—with Yuta shortly behind him—he gazed at the view in awe. Building lights, cars, and traffic signals cast their lights of various neon colors upon the darkened streets of Seoul. It was grand, the city was grand—and though it was usually bustling and crowded, tonight there was stillness, and the quiet could even be considered eerie. A scarce amount of people the size of ants roamed the sidewalks. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Yuta remarked, looking at Doyoung. It wasn’t clear what he was referring to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s amazing. I don’t come downtown at night often. It feels like an entirely different world. It’s so… serene,” he said, propping his elbows up on the thick concrete ledge. Yuta lifted himself up on the ledge and sat on it, next to where Doyoung stood. He looked down at him, and the younger soon followed in his actions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat cross-legged, admiring the cityscape. “I always liked the city better at night,” Yuta started. “It’s calmer. Not only do you have room to walk, but you have room to think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly!” Doyoung exclaimed in excitement, throwing his hands up. “I always liked everything better at night. It’s when I can do everything freely without worrying about distractions. Like making music, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuta nodded. “Show me some of your music,” he requested bluntly. It sounded more of a demand than request. Doyoung looked shyly into his lap. “Well, I haven’t actually finished anything…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I see… Don’t worry, some of the best thoughts are unfinished ones. I already know you’re talented as fuck anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re over exaggerating,” Doyoung chuckled, flustered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A moment of comfortable silence passed before Yuta spoke up again. “I’m glad I came to Korea. I think about it everyday. Like, what if I never left? How actually miserable would I be, stuck in my hometown with the people I’ve known my entire life? Confined to everyone’s expectations? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Truth be told, my parents didn’t even care that I left. My father probably wanted me gone. It’s sad, seeing his pride in me disappear, all because I didn’t fit his expectations of the son he crafted for himself in his mind. And my mother was disappointed that the boy she thought she knew all of her life, the one she pushed into and tried to arrange relationships with, wanted a girlfriend </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> a boyfriend. Like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>come on</span>
  </em>
  <span>, this is the 21st century—you’d think that would be a thing of the past. But when I told them, they just… became cold. Distant. They barely looked me in the eye. When I left for the airport, they didn’t come with to say their final goodbyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, when I came to Korea, it was because I wanted to escape from the reality that my parents couldn’t accept. When I came here, no one knew me, or knew who I was before. I could create myself for others without them having a preconceived expectation for me. It was so refreshing. But, on quiet nights like this, I wonder: why do I still miss them? Why does the weight still hang upon my shoulders?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked over at Yuta, who paid no kind to the boy next to him, as his eyes were fixated on the scene before them. Doyoung found it hard to believe that someone who seemed so perfect harbored this internal struggle. But, here he was before him. “I’ve found that it’s hard to come to terms with rejection, especially from the people you love,” Doyoung stated. “Do your parents still reach out to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuta looked to Doyoung. “My mom tries to call, occasionally. I don’t answer. She’ll probably try to apologize for everything but, frankly, I don’t want to hear that shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, clearly they care about you, Yuta. You can’t keep living the fake reality you created here. As much as you ignore her calls, one day, you’ll eventually return to Japan and face what you once ran away from. That’s probably why the weight still hangs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to Yuta again, who was silent after his comment. His sculpted face beautifully captured not only the artificial light of the city, but the dim light of the moon above them as well. Doyoung realized that Yuta made him feel lifeless. He glowed in different colors and seemed to glitter with his iridescent jewelry, while Doyoung seemed to be the living depiction of a black and white film. He suddenly realized how cold it was, as his own skin was icy to the touch and he could see his own breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuta was looking into the sky, as if he was searching for something but couldn’t find it. Maybe he was looking for an answer that Doyoung couldn’t give him. The younger looked up as well. The atmosphere was clear, and stars in varying degrees of luminosity were speckled throughout the vast darkness of it all. The space above him resonated with him in ways that he couldn’t put into words. It may have been the emptiness, or that it wasn’t empty at all. Emptiness was subjective and Doyoung didn’t think space was empty. Everything that exists is </span>
  <em>
    <span>something, </span>
  </em>
  <span>whether or not it is visible to us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re such a different person than I expected,” Yuta blurted out as Doyoung was taking in the sky. He looked over at Yuta, who was now studying him intently. “What is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>supposed to mean?” Doyoung asked defensively. “Well,” he started, letting out a light chuckle, “I originally constructed my own idea of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, great,” Doyoung exasperated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no! Seriously, it’s what I do with everyone. I’m just observant,” he reassured, then leaning back on the concrete and supporting himself with his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” he paused, and gestured to the sky. “Let’s just say you’re kind of like these stars. You don’t show yourself when people are awake, but when people are asleep--unaware--that’s when you’re at your brightest. A lot of people don’t recognize how beautiful the stars are because they don’t make the effort to see them. Always so preoccupied with their own lives...” He rolled his eyes and silence fell between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess my point is, we all have an ideal for ourselves that we try to present to the world. I mean, I think so... I know </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>do, and you probably thought of me differently before, too. But, for you, I dunno.” He looked back over the city again in deep thought. “You don’t have two identities, you have one—one that you only show when no one is looking. You hide your true identity not for others, but for yourself. It’s probably unintentional. And now that I feel like I’m seeing it…” Yuta stopped and looked away, as if he wanted to say something else, but held back. “Well, it’s just crazy how every day I’ve spent with you, I see a new part of you. It surprises me. In a good way. Does that make sense?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung stared at him with his mouth agape. “Wow, John Green. Are you sure you aren’t a literature major? Because that was really fucking cheesy. And kind of a loaded way of calling me an introvert.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, you’re right. I can’t believe I said all of that,” Yuta laughed nervously and looked down at his lap. “Am I wrong, though?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung was silent. He took a long pause and looked back out into the scenery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yuta had always been right. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was what he envied most about the older boy. He hated how well he could read every situation—read straight through Doyoung.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, I’m sorry for dumping all of my problems onto you. And for overanalyzing the shit out of you. That’s only because I’m taking a psych course this semester.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. I’m glad you trust me enough to. And to be fair, you’re right when you said I thought of you differently at first. You’re not what everyone makes you out to be.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah?” Yuta looked over at Doyoung. His eyes lit up, sparkling against the city lights.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I thought you were the insensitive cool-guy athlete that everyone wanted. You know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>stereotype. But you’re a lot... more, I guess.” They smiled at each other and stared for a while. Doyoung’s heart started to race because he wasn’t sure </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yuta thought of him. He might not have even seen Doyoung as more than just a friend. For all he knew, this was just the way Yuta was with people. Maybe it was just that Doyoung wasn’t used to attention like this. But, for some reason, he felt that it was different. There was something about the way that Yuta was looking at him that just made him feel... special. Perhaps now wasn’t the right time to make any assumptions, though. In Doyoung’s mind, things had to be calculated before he could come to a conclusion. Every step had to be planned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, the spontaneity of this night made him wonder if maybe he should stop planning and start </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He often realizes how stripped he is of life because he never wants to step out of his comfort zone. Being here, on top of a random building at midnight with </span>
  <em>
    <span>the </span>
  </em>
  <span>Nakamoto Yuta, opening up to him—it wasn’t just a step out of his comfort zone. It was a hop, skip, and a leap out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet, it felt amazing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung broke eye contact and checked the time. It was nearing 2 AM, and he only now remembered his tutoring shift that was supposed to start at 8. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he mumbled. He knew he would be miserable in the morning and yet he didn’t have a care in the world right now. He wanted this moment to last forever, but sadly all good things must come to an end. “Is everything alright?” Yuta asked, hearing Doyoung’s frustrated swear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I just forgot I had a shift tomorrow at 8 AM. I should get back home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God, I didn’t mean to keep you here with my rambling,” Yuta scrambled to his feet, holding his hand out for Doyoung. The younger grabbed it firmly, and was steadied down off the ledge with the strength of the older boy’s arms. “It’s okay. I had fun.” He smiled awkwardly before dusting his clothes off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” the older boy exclaimed with a victorious flair. “I knew it. I knew you could have fun. You just have to be with the right people to take you to the right place.” He winked, and Doyoung twisted his face in a fake disgust. He knew he was right. Being in the right place at the right time with the right people was what Doyoung enjoyed most. He had never expected, though, to be in </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>place, at </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>time and with </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>person. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His night felt complete, it felt whole for the first time in a long time. All because of Yuta…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>• • •</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They exited the building and walked along the sidewalk, their beings illuminated by the street lamps and various LED signs of convenient stores. “Let me walk you to the train,” Yuta said, hands in his pockets in an attempt to fight the cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Doyoung looked over to him in shock. “No, that’s in the total opposite direction of Johnny’s house. I’ll be fine. You’ve already gone out of your way for me too much tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, I can’t help that I’m such a kind soul,” he teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, the kindest,” the younger boy played along. “Would you lend me $20, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, you have Venmo?” he reached for his phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, no, I was joking! I can’t with you, Nakamoto.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older chuckled and put his phone back in his pocket. They stopped once they reached the intersection where the two would split. The blonde looked at the younger boy with a doubtful expression. “You sure you’ll be fine alone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Yuta. I’m fine. I’ve walked alone way too many times to count,” he reassured. Yuta sighed, his breath visible in the coldness of the night. “Okay, okay. Text me when you’re home, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Promise,” Doyoung said, holding out his pinky. The older boy smiled and linked his own with it in an unbreakable swear. Doyoung never made promises because he hated the idea of being undividedly committed to something, but he would do so for Yuta. Yuta reached up and grabbed Doyoung’s shoulder affectionately, before taking off south towards Johnny’s house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doyoung swore he couldn't breathe properly for the next 20 minutes that he was on the train. </span>
</p><p> </p>
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